Carry That Weight
by GuessWhatTimeItIs
Summary: Finn and company in a sprawling adventure spanning the face of Ooo. This will be a multi-chapter story that will update sporadically. Expect adventure, shipping, humor, and healthy amounts of butt-kicking.
1. A Life Lived

Slow were his footsteps, the heavy snows laid across the land almost knee deep. The entire land was covered in the white stuff, and every step was muffled. True winter had engulfed the land of Ooo once again, and the intrepid adventurer drug his feet through the cold and wet precipitation with reckless abandon. Even now it was snowing heavily, great winds pushing the snow far and wide. As he strode forward, snow was knocked left and right in great torrents. From afar one might mistake him for a wind storm, the snow being thrown up by his efforts and buffeted around him like a miniature tornado. In truth he was tired, and he had not the energy that the storm made him appear to possess. But onward he marched through it all regardless, intent on returning home after a long trek to retrieve tonight's dinner.

His prize slung across his shoulder, Finn was nearing home. Which to Finn meant that he could soon strip off his heavy and now soaked clothes. Being used to his freedom, all this cold-weather gear was restrictive and weighing heavily on his shoulders. Finn was not one to be bundled up or covered in protective measures, he was an adventurer born and raised. However, he had been warned of the consequences should he neglect to wear any coverings, both from the elements and from a protective friend. Having anticipated the freezing blowing wind, he had grudgingly agreed to be bundled up, a whywolf hide draped across his shoulders, well-worn boots on his feet, and a familiar cap pulled down over a mess of blonde hair. Hanging at his side like an ever-present companion, the family sword was ever sharp, a blood red facsimile of a crucifix. On his back he wore a familiar weight, his green pack, now worn with use. He stood tall under his accoutrements, his late teenage years giving him a sudden growth spurt and a decent amount of muscle on the side. Finn was fairly handsome, even with a missing tooth here and there. Not that one would have been able to tell in the blizzard, as he was indeed covered head to toe. The only part of him that could be seen was his deep blue eyes, almost grey in the half-light of evening. A little smile played across his face behind his hat as he thought of the warmth that awaited him in his home. Regardless of the cold, he knew there would always be a warm home to welcome him when his adventures were at an end.

Coming at last to the door, Finn flung it inwards. Snow piled into the entranceway, and he ploughed straight through it. Snow whipped inwards across the room, the wind curling around his back and invading the home. Finn was glad to be home yet again, home in the warm tree that had been his home for years now. Not terribly worried about the mess he was creating, Finn stomped his feet hard on the welcome mat. Snow matted to the bottom of his boots fell off in clumps, white matter mixed with dirt and various bits of detritus. Throwing his coat onto the coat stand and resting the family sword on its place on the wall, Finn sat down in the little chair next to the door and slowly pulled his boots off, letting them drop to the floor with a thump. Normally he would leave them in the anteroom just off the kitchen, but this winter he and Jake had decided shoes would be better suited at the door, so as to prevent too much of a mess. Surveying the room, he decided to leave the mess until later. It would be a pain to take care of either way, but he was not in the mood to deal with it at the moment. He only wanted to be home.

Finn grabbed dinner and made his way across the room, the floorboards creaking familiar hellos at him as his weight pressed and bent them. In a motion so natural he didn't even recognize it, he reached to a ladder and began to climb. Passing the mounds of treasure he and Jake had collected over the years, he didn't even bat an eyelash. It was difficult to find it impressive when he needed to look at it every time he came home. In fact, it had been years since he had really looked at the masses of it, always climbing the familiar ladder to the kitchen with nothing on his mind. Clambering up onto the landing, Finn could smell the familiar aroma of hot cocoa. The pleasant smell floated over him, and he sighed. As he stepped into the kitchen, he was greeted with a wonderful sight, and his face lit up to see her. She turned to look at him and smiled a pure little smile. To see her smile so unrestrained was a miracle, and Finn counted himself lucky to be one of the few to receive it.

"You're back!" Jake had heard Finn coming up the ladder and came to greet him. A great yellow mass came barreling at him, all jowls and laughs and roughhousing. Although Finn was indeed glad to see his friend and brother, he was more anxious to get more of that pleasant smile he had glimpsed just a moment ago. It disappeared, to be replaced by an amused smirk. That too was pleasant, and Finn was certainly more used to it. Her hair flowed this way and that, seemingly carried by the wind, or taken of its own will. Finn had never asked her about the nature of her wild hair, so he knew not how or why it moved, but it danced regardless, and he enjoyed staring at it. He often found himself entranced by the very motion, unable to tear his eyes away until she caught his attention. Embarrassed, he would feel blood rush to his face and he would look away sheepishly. She would follow it with a little chuckle, something sweet but with a hint of mocking. A laugh that said "I caught you staring, yeah you like what you see."

Of course he did. How could he do anything but be infatuated with her? Drawn to her by her uniqueness, the way she could utterly confuse him and yet be also utterly confused by him. Something was special in the way they could talk for hours and in the end settle any argument with a little sparring or a friendly tickle fight. Such a dichotomy would have seemed impossible to Finn before her, and yet now he couldn't picture his life without her. To think their meeting had all been an accident, a fabrication.

Like a torch she stood at the stove, a beacon in the dark. By now the sun had set, but Jake had been slow in lighting the candles. Such had been the norm every time she had been over past dark, her own body illuminating every room where she chose to stand. Living fire, and yet so much more. She was his flame, she lit up his world, she ignited his soul. Such a fire could not be put down, it could no more be doused than one could douse the sun. After a rocky start, their friendship had been quick and dangerous, punctuated by near-death experiences and frequent worries over losing the house to a raging inferno. Such trials and tribulations had been challenging, but after some time they began to happen less frequently. Eventually they were almost nonexistent. Even when the outbreaks were common, Finn found some enjoyment in constant flux and challenge. She wasn't a sweet little flower, she wasn't someone who would be pushed around. Strength was in her veins, if she had any, and Finn could appreciate this more than nearly anyone. When no one else would put up with her antics, Finn would sidle up next to the flame-haired beauty, and risk life and limb to help her through whatever had put her in a bad mood. It was a friendship born of respect and true understanding. And Finn wouldn't trade it for the world. The Flame Princess was worth the pain.

As Jake released his embrace, he stepped aside and moved to leave the room. He said something about fetching something, but the adventurer knew better. Although Finn insisted there was nothing between himself and the burning woman, Jake nonetheless gave them plenty of time to talk alone. Finn was glad for it, even if it he wouldn't acknowledge there was something there. Deep in his heart he knew, but he was so afraid. Fear of rejection reared its head so many times as he was with her, a reminder of the last princess he had tried to court. It was still difficult to keep those insecurities down, and some days Finn had to just sit and focus on a singular something while thinking of how things had changed. Sometimes he just needed a reminder that things had changed painfully, but in the end he was happier for it. Harder to let go of the past than it was to accept the future, Finn could do no less. It was not his place to question why life had thrown him through a loop, it was only his place to ride it out and see where it took him. And to many places it had taken him.

It had taken him here, to this moment, and for that he was grateful. She wore a pair of pants like jeans, and slippers of some kind. On top she wore a hoodie, a light affair that was more like a shirt than anything. Finn often wondered how she wore clothing, but was much too embarrassed to ask about the nature of her clothes. The burning girl gave him a little amused look in response to his vacant stare, and then tilted her head to one side. Something in his chest jumped at the sight, before he was reminded of his purpose. Her voice stretched across the distance between them matching the look of amusement on her face. "And what did you bring back today for me to cook up? I hope it's not more of Meat Man. That seriously creeps me out." Finn was instantly glad he had decided not to stop by the infamous man of meat's house, opting instead to get some premium steaks at the local butcher. He crossed the room, and set the food down onto the small amount of counter space available. He brought out steaks, followed by a tasteful selection of bread and assorted fruits. Surveying the cuts of meat, the fiery figure ascertained they were not from Meat Man and promptly ignited the stove.

Finn enjoyed watching her cook, equal parts art form and horrifying display of power and ferocity. It put him into a sort of trance whenever he watched her at work. She refused to cook simply so that her friends could eat, and she valued it as an opportunity to show off one of her many skills. Truly, she was a woman of many talents, from cooking to fighting to artistry. Finn was totally enthralled by her every motion. He stood at her elbow as she worked this time, and slowly reached into his bag. Pulling forth a small packet wrapped in muslin and tied with a small bit of twine, he presented it to her. Knowing the contents from only the packaging, the woman's hair jumped and burned brighter at the very sight of it. Finn spoke proudly to her, as she unwrapped the little gift.

"I know how much you like these, Azar, so I made a quick stop on my way back." Speaking to her for the first time since he had returned, he casually spoke his chosen nickname for her, hoping it would get the desired reaction. Finn had happened upon an ancient book years ago talking of the "essence of the fire" as a beautiful woman and it had been called "Azarchehr." He still wouldn't tell the princess how he had come across the name, or why he called her such, but she nonetheless was pleasantly surprised he had his own name to call her. Enjoying his attentions, she clutched at the contents of the small package. Picking a small black stone from the grouping, she popped it into her mouth with relish. It wasn't a normal rock, but was instead composed of anthracite, pure coal which had been polished and shaped into little spheres of varying sizes. Finn couldn't appreciate them himself, but his friend always seemed to coo and almost purr if you brought her these little nuggets. She twisted around quickly after sucking at the little morsel, her cheeks clearly a deeper shade of red. Finn always wondered if she was blushing, or if it was a side effect of consuming the flammable material. Always preferring to leave the little details to mystery, Finn didn't ask.

"Thank you Finn, really. Not that you can get these on the way back…" Letting the words dance off her tongue, the princess gave the adventurer a knowing look. She knew he made the extra walk to get her little treats, and she really did appreciate it. Finn could tell she knew, but he wasn't going to admit anything. With nothing but a smile, he stepped away from her and back into his comfort zone. Their friendship was one of strained feelings and strange boundaries, and Finn was ever the one who stepped back first. While his little princess was more than willing to push limits, he was careful of his own as well as hers. Often she would push her own limits, to only be withdrawn later in awkwardness and discomfort. The adventurer didn't like these little tugs at his heartguts, so he was willing to limit both of them so that she wouldn't ever retreat away from him. So far it had worked, and even now he had seen her willing to go further, but he drew himself away, feeling the familiar pang in his stomach. He wanted to let her in, but he wasn't willing to lose her. And thus he played a careful game of push and pull, trying to temper their friendship into something more.

But he let the thought go for now. The princess placed the little treats on the counter, taking the steaks and putting them into a skillet. Finn stepped away and sat at on the bench seat at his friend's urging. She truly enjoyed the art of making meals; it was something that she was passionate about. Finn was confused the first time she had confessed this, but he soon found himself taken aback at her skill. Like a deadly dance she crafted perfectly seared entrees, and with a flourish she could add just the perfect amount of heat. Finn long pondered why cooking called to her, why she was equally apt to start making food as she was to burst into an inferno when she was mad. In the end he found it had to do with control, as no matter what chaos was happening with her emotions or her life, she could at least exert a measure of control over her cooking. It was a focus for her raging emotions, and Finn found the daughter of flame worthy of admiration. She had found a way to contain her usually destructive habits, albeit with some help from the adventurer, and he was glad she was willing to give it a try.

Jake was now returning, holding a little box Finn knew well. It was his box full of hot cocoa, reserved for the coldest days of winter. Finn smiled at his friend as he entered, glad that he was no longer alone with the girl. It seemed that Jake always knew how to break up awkward conversations, so Finn found it crucial to have his friend around in case of shameful silent pauses. As Jake began to get his supplies ready to make hot cocoa, his eyes rested on the packet of stones on the counter. Finn saw him make a little smile at this and turn to face the boy. Their eyes met, and Jake made an all-too-familiar face. Finn shrugged innocently, but Jake didn't stop with his sly look. Finn just smiled. Jake was right in his suspicions, of course, but Finn was too proud and too scared to admit it. Thus it had been for a long time, and it showed no signs of stopping.

And that's how Finn liked it. Life was good. Finn had found someone that reveled in being close to him, as much if not more so than he did in them. His best friend was also his adoptive brother. He had a nice warm home. Good friends were around every corner. As he pondered these things, Jake began to make his cocoa. The soft clink of a spoon mixing the powder in the boiling water could be heard above the din of the princess's cooking. Jake came over to sit next to his brother, blowing on his drink as he walked. Finn tilted his eyes up to look at the beauty once again, and she finished her process as he did. Taking the now steaming plates over to the boy and his dog, the burning woman plopped herself down next to Finn. As they began to eat she plucked another stone from the pouch and popped it in her mouth with satisfaction. With a smile, she let her eyes meander over to Finn. He blushed slightly under her gaze, obviously affected by her even after being so familiar with her in the past. She spoke another thanks to him for the treats.

"Thanks for these, Finn. I've really been craving them recently." Finishing off a big bite, Finn smiled sheepishly and avoided her eyes. "Of course, Azar, anytime!" it was the truth of course, as the boy adventurer was willing to go to the ends of the earth for her if he had to. There was something between them alright, and Finn loved every moment of it.


	2. A New Flame

It wasn't long before the rest of the company would arrive. Finn had almost forgotten that it was movie night at the tree house, but was soon reminded by Jake of night to come as Jake mentioned the next movie on their list. Realizing he had little time to prepare, Finn quickly moved to clear away the dishes. He took all of the plates and threw them haphazardly in the sink, a loud sound of porcelain bouncing off of porcelain filling the kitchen. He didn't want to waste time on cleaning them, so decided they could wait and moved onto the next chore. As he did so, Jake went to grab Beemo so they could set up the projector in the living room. As he left, Finn busied himself with trying to find his pitcher. Since having found a pitcher that was enchanted to pour whatever beverage was desired, Finn and Jake prided themselves on having the best array of drinks in all of Ooo. However, he seemed to have misplaced it since the last time it had been used. As he peered into the cupboards, Finn felt a warm sensation at his shoulder. A hand rested there, the familiar heat pouring through his shirt. Trying to ignore the buzzing in his ears, he turned to face the girl there. She held aloft the pitcher, lifting an eyebrow in much the same fashion.

"Looking for this?" It was a wry smile that played across her lips, a playful look. Finn's heart nearly melted, but he held his face together for long enough to take the pitcher from her hand. Standing so close, he could feel the heat radiating off of her body. It was an intoxicating feeling, like standing under a hot shower or too close to a raging bonfire. Stepping back again, he made to go start pouring drinks for the impending guests. Something caught at his elbow though, and he almost yanked it free before feeling his arm caught in a small hand. His head snapped around to the princess, and her eyes were locked on him. Finn's breath hitched violently in his chest, a look of surprise and fear leaping to his face. The attention was so focused, so intense, and in but a moment Finn found his face burning, and not from the heat of her internal fires. With a startled gasp, he managed to blurt out a little noise. "What-" But she placed a finger on his lips coyly.

"Do you have a problem with me?" The question was on the edge of annoyance, just barely tolerable beneath the surface. Finn knew she was secretly holding back some greater anger, for he had been the one to teach her patience. He could tell when she was keeping something bottled up. Fearing retribution, Finn quickly apologized for whatever perceived insult he had performed. "No, of course not! Why would you think that Azar?" That little nickname was Finn's way of cooling her down, as the girl seemed to be more agreeable to him whenever he was personal with her. Of course, forgiveness wasn't his only goal. Why would she have a problem with him? The flame princess was quick to let her emotions engulf her better judgment, for good or for ill. But what had set her off? Finn did not have long to wait for a response.

"You always jerk away every time I'm next to you, what's the deal with that?" Of course she had to bring this up tonight. Of course it couldn't wait until after movie night, and now everyone was going to be arriving soon. Finn didn't want to tackle the question head on, so he let it slide for a moment before replying. "Well…I just want to take it slow, that's all…" Regretting the words the instant he spoke them, Finn turned away and started shuffling through the cupboards for glasses. Beginning to pour the different drinks, the adventurer could almost hear the gears turning in his favorite girl's head. They had been friends for a long time now, and things were starting to accelerate in a positive direction, but now Finn was worried he had thrown a wrench into the workings. She would probably question his motives, and the way he treated her. It seemed that Pandora 's Box had been opened at last, all of his worries coming forth to haunt him. He had made a mistake, and now he might lose even her. His thoughts were interrupted by a whisper in his ear.

"Take it slow? I don't see why we should…" Now the buzzing in his brain had returned in full force. Finn's face was set still like that of a statue. Of all the things that he had anticipated, the boy adventurer could not have predicted this response. Feeling warm arms curl around his midsection, Finn almost died of embarrassment. Surely this was a dream, something not of the waking world? She held him close, pressing her face into the back of his neck. It was warm, soft, and if she burned any hotter the princess would set his very soul ablaze. "I don't want to dance around this anymore, I want you _now_." Finn couldn't breathe. She nearly purred in his ear, and he could hear his heart racing a thousand miles a second. It's not that they hadn't been physically close before; indeed, on many nights they had cuddled together under the stars, in dark moments being the light to each other's perils. But that was different.

Finn turned in her arms, and looked her in the eyes. Something passionate was veiled in their depths, and the boy wasn't sure he was ready to handle it. Every part of his body was on high alert, adrenaline pumping through his veins. It was like a fight without punches, a race without a finish line, a game without points. In the space of a moment, a whole new world was opened to Finn, his everything turned upside down. The daughter of flame tilted her head, a small smile creeping across her lips. Her lips. Finn was drawn to them in a way he had never felt, and now it was difficult to even think straight.

A deep voice from below interrupted his thoughts. "Finn, are those drinks ready? People are here!" Jake was calling from the entryway, and suddenly Finn was _very_ aware of how he was standing with the princess. She made no immediate move to remove herself from him, however, and stood there with her arms still wrapped around his torso for a moment before reluctantly removing them. Finn called back down to Jake as soon as she had removed herself from his person. "I'll be down in a minute!" The princess gave him a quick look that seemed to say 'later,' and with that his breathing was further disturbed as she ducked down onto the ladder and proceeded to the living room. Collecting his thoughts and a set of glasses, Finn began to pour drinks. Mind still buzzing, he collected the menagerie of beverages and moved to the living room. Trying his best not to look hot and bothered, Finn descended into the room.

Packed as usual, the Finn was greeted by smiles and hellos as he entered the room. Trying to keep a cool head, he made his rounds with drinks. Even in his confusion he had poured them correctly, the habit of many such parties hard to disturb. Lumpy Space Princess had her spot on the couch staked out as usual, and she accepted her diet soft drink with about as much enthusiasm as was expected. Beside her sat the esteemed Lady Rainicorn, with Jake sprawled out on the floor at her feet. Finn smiled seeing them together and happy. They were always such an adorable couple. Marceline floated high above the couch. She extended her hand downwards to accept the deep red beverage. Coming to the next guest, Finn almost dropped his tray. Feigning to have tripped over a loose board, he managed to recover almost instantly. Being an adventurer gives one amazing reflexes, after all. Trying to play it off cooly, he moved to her with the chilled and questionably living smoothy.

Princess Bonnibelle Bubblegum. Pink locks pulled tightly back into a ponytail, she had thrown her jean bedecked legs over the arm of the armchair. Having wrapped her scarf around cold shoulders, the princess looked quite comfortable stretched across the seat. On any other day this would have been normal. The friendship that the candy princess and the boy shared hadn't been awkward in years. After his initial rejection, and his subsequent new crush on the princess of fire, Finn had endeavored not to put their old friendship in jeopardy. He had moved on from pining over the pink woman, and had been content, no, _excited_ at the prospect of things moving forward with the firebrand of girl he now courted. But that didn't make him feel any less awkward when they were in the same room. What was wrong, what kept him from simply moving truly forward?

It didn't help that Peebles and Azar seemed to be at odds. Despite speaking in civil tones and never outwardly doing anything offensive, neither seemed to be comfortable in the other's presence either. And Finn, oh poor Finn. He was simply caught in the middle of something he didn't understand. He tried to ignore it, or to diffuse tense situations, but there never was a good way to make things totally right. And deep down, Finn knew it wasn't because the candy ruler had ever held a flame for him. He knew it through and through, and yet he always questioned himself in these situations. If she never had those kinds of feelings, then why would she be uncomfortable with the flame princess? Finn had put it down to some kind of jockeying for top woman, some struggle played out not over him, but rather around him. And truly, that's the explanation he preferred. Never since he had left behind thoughts of Bonnibelle had he regretted the choice. Not once did a doubt cloud his thoughts. Too long he had been attached to that girl, and as soon as he found someone more fitting to his tastes, he fled like a madman. Or, that's how he liked to think of it.

And as he handed over the drink, he made to move quickly away. Finn found that when one was unprepared to deal with a crisis, it was best to ignore it entirely. Or at least, when it was at social functions. In real life, Finn would never shy away from a challenge, no matter what the stakes or pain; but when certain interactions made him uncomfortable and he could avoid them, Finn was gone. It was a simple matter of putting himself in the best place. And right now that was next to a certain someone who had her eyes glued to him as he placed the tray on a table.

Eyes like embers, Azar didn't try very hard to veil her lusty little look at Finn. Almost as though the heat shot straight from her eyes, Finn could feel his cheeks rush full of blood. The adventurer would have preferred that she would hide such a thing, but there was no stopping her. Like the blazing bonfire she resembled, Azar was impossible to tame, and had the boy told her to stop she would have surely done the opposite. Frankly, this newfound emotion he was sensing in her was flattering, but it wasn't proper at a time like this. Trying to ignore it, Finn simply sat in the chair that fiery woman stood beside, hoping that her barely contained emotions would simmer to nothing if he didn't return them. That was wishful thinking and he knew it, but a boy could hope, couldn't he?

As Beemo started up the projector, Azar settled with sitting on the armrest of Finn's chair. Thankful that she wasn't yet comfortable enough to occupy his lap, the boy settled in and decided to enjoy the movie. It was a fluffy little thing, nothing impressive. Indeed, it was difficult to focus on the story when at the back of his mind he couldn't shake the feeling of the flaming woman at his elbow. Try as he might, nothing could shake that feeling that she was there, probably staring at him out of the corner of her eyes. The idea that she was almost certainly thinking about him made Finn almost dizzy, suddenly wondering about how something so amazing could happen so quickly.

Even with the buzzing in his brain, Finn wasn't deaf. He could discern a small tapping noise, but at once dismissed it in the belief that it was from the movie. Occasionally these old tapes would make strange sounds, often from their age. But this was not the case, as he soon noticed the tapping again. It seemed to be coming from the door, and Finn was instantly aware of it. It was a knocking by a small or weak hand, probably someone late for the viewing. Had he looked around, perhaps Finn would have ignored the tapping, as all that had been invited were already present. But he didn't notice this, and lifted himself from his chair reluctantly. Azar gave him a puzzled look, and posed a question. "What is it Finn?" He shook his head quickly, and spoke in a whisper. "There's someone at the door. I'll be right back."

With that he slinked away from the living room. Relieved to be gone, he took his time getting to the door. It wasn't that the warm woman was unpleasant, but it was more that she was _very_ willing to be personal recently. Finn was eager to explore this idea, but until he was surer of how his friendship had changed he wished to discover these new feelings in private. Easing his way to the door, Finn heard the tapping getting louder. Making a sound of acknowledgement, Finn finally made it to the entranceway. Seeing the snow had melted, the space was quite a mess. Oh well, Finn thought, he could attend to it later. Throwing the door open, Finn was granted a most unusual sight.

"Peppermint Butler? What are you doing here?" Confused, Finn suddenly felt a pang of dread seeing the small man. As he stepped inside, the adventurer mulled over his thoughts. Peppermint was always left in charge when the princess was absent, so his presence was not only a surprise, but a grave sign. Whatever had made him leave the Candy Kingdom must be of great importance, for he was always on duty, forever ready to do his lady's bidding. Out of breath, Peppermint Butler couldn't even muster any true words. He kept muttering something, but it came out as gibberish.

Having heard Finn let the little man in, the rest of the group had made their way the entrance. The all stood in a kind of silent stupor. All of them knew something was wrong. Bonnibelle ran to her attendant, and knelt to speak with him. The tension was palpable. Every soul could feel something was amiss. Jake stood next to Lady, and then shared a glance of unease. Marceline was curious, if not terribly worried. Even LSP seemed to have felt the gravity of the situation. As Finn stood back, the flame princess sidled up next to him. A worried look was plastered on her face, something between confusion and fear. It was mirrored all the way around the room, as each guest was in turn wondering the same question. What had happened?

At last, the little man had caught enough breath to speak properly. Urged on by his charge, he straightened. It was obvious he was more than flustered. Dread, no, _horror_ was plain to see on his features. He turned to look at Finn. All eyes followed the motion, waiting for anything. The silence was deafening. At last, he spoke.

"Finn…he's back…_he's_ back. _The Lich._" An audible gasp of horror circled the room, every person uttering it save for Finn. Murmuring back and forth, the assembled were just below the point of panic. Among them, Finn was stony-faced and unresponsive. Azar took his arm and gave him a slight shake. "Finn…what do we do?"

He didn't respond. Again all eyes were on him. He returned their stares, his eyes roving the room. They settled on each one of his friends for a moment, and then he closed them. Breathing in, he stepped toward the door. Placing his feet in his boots and his cloak around his shoulders, Finn did so in silence. At last he took the family sword from its place next to the door and turned the handle leading outside. With one foot out the door, he stopped and turned.

"Coming Jake?"


	3. A Means to An End

"No, there is absolutely no way." Finn's voice was insistent. No, more than that, it was resolute. Standing in the waste deep snow, he wore the sword of his father, his trademark hat and the hide of a horrendous beast. He stood tall, having grown tall in the past years. Finn was a shining example of strength, but deep down he knew it had no effect on her. She looked past that facade, and wouldn't listen to him based on how he appeared. It was something he had gotten used to, but the boy never truly understood. Looking up at the woman floating just above the snow, Finn put on his most convincing frown and set his teeth. He would not allow this, not today.

"Oh really? And you think you can stop me?" Fuming just above the snow, the fire princess wasn't happy. Finn insisted that she couldn't accompany him on this quest, but she was not one to let an adventure go. Bracing himself for the coming conflict, he intoned the spell Flambo had taught him years ago. Azar had found with time she could touch the boy without burning him, but now was not a time Finn believed she would necessarily have his safety in mind. He used to have the sounds of the words written in ink on the back of his hand, but after enough time, the spell came quickly and without thought. A light blue shimmer sprang up around his frame, and in the dim twilight of early evening he almost glowed.

The flaming woman smirked. "Oh, you want to play rough?" It was almost a threat, but there was a playful edge in her voice. Before he could shoot down that little jab, someone else did it for him. "We don't have time for this! Let's just get moving already." It was Jake, fearful but true to the cause. Finn could tell his best friend dreaded seeing the Lich again, but he had enough presence of mind to overlook the fear. Taking a deep breath, Finn conceded the point. Fighting the princess would get nothing done and only serve to give their nemesis more time. Besides, hadn't he just moved his relationship with her forward? Or was that just a hope? Shaking the distracting thoughts from his head, Finn struck out into the snow without a word, his two friends hot on his heels.

Breaths were drawn, chests heaving, cold air drawn into exhausted lungs. Muscles screamed for rest, but there was no time to rest. No time to stop, no time to let the fact of the matter settle in his mind. The world was in peril, on the brink of disaster. Again. And yet again it was Finn's responsibility, his solemn call to destroy the looming threat. Not looming, _imminent_. The immediacy of the danger made speed necessary. His legs begged to stop, straining against the snow. When he slowed, Jake stooped down and lifted the determined adventurer onto his back. Jake could shape his body into a myriad of different forms, and it was easy for him to traverse the deep packed snow.

"Thanks bro." Finn gave Jake a little nod, smiling. Jake always had his back, and they were nigh inseparable. As long as Jake was by his side, Finn knew he could win. Or, that's how he usually felt. But something told him today was different. Even with his best friend, Finn wasn't sure that he could beat the Lich. He had only managed a defeat last time with a lot of luck and sacrifice. But even these wouldn't be enough, as the Lich seemed to learn his own weakness. Was luck out of the picture now? What would destroy him?

He wasn't destroyed by the power of…liking someone. By what Finn now could tell himself was some kind of love. It wasn't what he's always been told love is, but it was a love like brothers shared. Was any other kind of love stronger? Finn wanted to believe it, but couldn't rely on it. The Lich survived love last time, transferring his soul into Princess Bubblegum's body. Thinking of it made Finn shudder involuntarily. That _thing_ wore PB's skin like a suit, walked around in her body, corrupted and almost destroyed it. And now he was back, after Finn thought he drove the fell creature out. He must have snatched someone else's body, holding onto his dread form of life until he could remake his original body.

How he had returned was irrelevant right now though. All that mattered was stopping the terror before he destroyed all that lived. According to Peppermint Butler, the Lich wasn't just regaining his power. Before they left he had told them of how this time he had hidden, his power growing over time. It was only through a coincidence that he was discovered at all, a messenger taking a wrong turn and discovering the lair of the beast. Again Finn flinched, realizing quickly that he had only faced the sorcerer when he was at his weakest. This time it would be more difficult. It had been nearly impossible to destroy him last time. Would there be anything in the world that could stop the beast? Finn believed there was a way. There had to be.

As the wind whipped past Finn's face, he ran his fingers across the hilt of the family sword. A deep red, the demon blade nearly vibrated at his touch. Originally the blade had been made exclusively of a demon's blood, but that had proved…problematic. Finn chuckled thinking of how he and Jake had confronted the demon and bound it inside the blade years ago. Tired of constantly banishing it every time he drew the sword, Finn decided to simply chain the beast inside the unholy steel. Now it wanted fighting in return for its imprisonment, and simply being touched it showed its desire to destroy.

And then something clicked in Finn's head. The demon couldn't be destroyed, but it could be restrained. Imprisoned. Bound. Perhaps the Lich was weak to the same method. Reaching into his pack, Finn pulled forth the Enchiridion. A tome of almost infinite knowledge, there was surely a way to restrain the fiend. Flipping through page after page for a certain text, he finally came to the section that detailed spells. Skimming over it, he reread the portion that helped imprison the demon in his father's sword. It was no use looking there however, as it was very specific to demons. Judging the Lich to be of a different lineage, Finn looked further into the book.

The Enchiridion was a mystery all its own. It seemed to be full of knowledge, and unending in pages, both figuratively and _literally_. One could try to read it cover to cover, but upon closing and opening the pages again, the writing would be different. Unsure of the book's true power, Finn found information based on a rough approximation of its workings. It seemed that whatever was _necessary_ came forward to the right page, but it was not always what one looked for. And to make it more complicated, this was mixed with what one looked for, and a smidgen of random information to boot. It was as if the book found what you wanted, what you needed, and a little bit of everything else, but was unwilling to give hints as to what was what. Confusing and infuriating as it was, it had saved the daring duo on multiple occasions. Trusting it again, Finn closed the book and focused.

In all of his warrior training, Finn had never really encountered spirituality. Occasionally Jake would mention something of his beliefs, or he would encounter someone who was devout and skilled in ways not of this world. However, he had never had proper training in how to meditate during stressful situations. Needless to say, riding on Jake's back towards the Lich was stressful. And to top it all off, he was being accompanied by a flaming reminder of his fragile and uncertain feelings. Focusing was going to be difficult, but the weight of the world hung on the young adventurer's shoulders.

Closing his eyes, Finn breathed in. _Show me how to destroy the Lich_. He let it out. _Show me how to defeat the Lich._ Another breath was slowly drawn in. _Show me how to win._ Letting his breath out, Finn flipped open the cover of the ancient book. Inside, his eye was drawn to a truly ancient script. He couldn't read it, but he could understand the illuminated lettering. A small scene of a skeleton being chained and dragged into an intricate door could be seen on the faded page. Feeling this was one of the oldest passages in the book, Finn dragged his fingers across the pages yellowed in a way he rarely saw even in this aging tome.

The hero frowned. Of course the place that held the most promise was incomprehensible. It was his luck to have found the perfect solution that he couldn't read. Flipping the page in resignation, a slip of paper almost fell out from between the pages. Catching it with the reflexes of a cat, Finn unfolded the newer looking scrap. It was written in something he could understand, but it was difficult to read nonetheless. The handwriting was scrawled messily over the worn paper, and Finn squinted at the writing. Not believing his luck, it was a translation of the previous pages, or he assumed that was what had been written there. Hoping beyond hope he was right, Finn relayed his plan to his accompanying friends.

"I've found a spell that should trap the Lich…I think. It says something about chains and something called the Hall of Doors. I guess it's worth a shot, right guys?" He told them more than asked them, and they nodded. The flaming girl floated up next to the boy, taking care not to get too close to Jake. Too many times they had found out the hard way what burning dog hair smells like.

She leaned in just close enough so she could speak to the boy. "Finn, I'm sorry about earlier." Finn turned to the girl at his elbow, seeing an apologetic look flit across her face. It took him a moment to realize what she was talking about, having nothing but the coming battle on his mind. "It's fine Azar, really. I get it; you don't want to get left behind." She nodded, not moving away. For a while they moved in silence, equal parts peace and trepidation. Jake moved quickly across the new snow, but even for him it was taking longer than usual. It seemed the whole world was revolting against the Lich's revival.

Soon they could see their destination, a mountain just northeast of the grasslands. It was not a famous place, nor was it a particularly inhabited place. The Lich was smart, as always. He had learned his own weakness, and regained his power in secret, pulling dread materials from the very earth. It was unclear how long he had been gathering his clout, but it did not matter. If he had reclaimed only a portion of his former power he would be more than a match for the adventurer. The thought worried Finn immensely, and he shuddered without thinking.

"You ok buddy?" Jake's deep voice boomed up from beneath the boy. Sighing quietly, he spoke to his friend honestly. "I don't know Jake. What if we can't win?" Jake shot a look back at Finn, incredulous. It was almost a comical expression, something the boy didn't expect to see during such a serious time. "Finn, of course we can win." Smiling, he faced forward again, doubling his efforts. It was reassuring that Jake had confidence in him, even if he didn't trust himself. Flame Princess gave him a sincere little smile after Jake had turned away. She spoke in a warm whisper. "You always win, don't you?" Finn smiled nervously. _I wish that was true._

A rumble could be heard cascading from the mountain ahead. For a moment Finn wondered how lightning could be possible in the middle of winter. And then something profound hit him; there was no lightning before the thunder. A sense of unease ran up the adventurer's spine, as it occurred to him that the Lich must have done something to make that awful sound. Indeed, it was soon clear what had happened, as great cracks slowly crawled up the side of the mountain. Somehow the Lich could rip mountains asunder, which gave even Jake pause. Horrendous as this vision of unholy power was, it was only the beginning.

Approaching the site of the Lich's latest incursion, his mad purpose was soon revealed. He had not chosen this mountainside merely due to its isolation. From the cracks in the soil came a multitude, a great host of the dead. Crawling forth from their slumber, the deceased were raised carrying ancient swords and shields, waving banners for their long-dead master, wearing armor protecting little but corpses. Horror crept into Finn's mind. His opponent was not merely a lich, a sorcerer bound to the world of the living; he was _The Lich King_. Every king must have a kingdom; every kingdom must have its subjects.

Drawing a deep breath, Finn swept his cloak back over his shoulder. Pulling his sword free of its scabbard, he let the breath go. Speaking defiantly, he looked to his friends.

"Let's show him what it means to be a hero."


	4. An Agile Cat

The grinding of ten thousand gears rose above the sounds of distant thunder, emanating from the very soil beneath the snow. Gnashing teeth in skulls long dead rose from the dirt in which they were put to rest, feeling again the call to war. An unearthly screeching sound rose on the wind, the long dead horde letting loose, not from lungs but from their trapped and enslaved souls. Bellowing could be heard beneath them, the beasts on which they rode rising with them. Horses and lizards and avian mounts were among the many beasts raised with their former masters, again moving to the drums of war. Moaning and groaning rose too, not of men but of the wood and metal straining against the weight of earth and years. As all of the varied fighters made their way into the light, they mixed the soil with the new fallen snow, making the entire countryside a mess of blackened wet muck. Sounds from beyond the veil of death shrieked up at the trio of heroes as they approached the mountainside, the full force of the Lich's armies being released upon the world as they approached.

Even from a distance they could see great iron war machines creeping from the dark hollows of the earth. Some came on wheels, bearing great catapults and battle standards. They were rusted and worn, most of the wood petrified from their time in the earth. The flags were tattered, nearly gone, but still showed the icon of a horned skull, surely the mark of the Lich. Other monstrosities rose high above these on great metal legs powered with pneumatics and whirring with electric servos, seemingly impossibly built but standing nonetheless. Many of these held great and terrible cannons of both modern and ancient design; others still wielding swords forged of star-stuff and wrecking balls bristling with spines of pitted and worn iron. Still more machines of war ascended to the sky on wings of wood and canvas and metal. They seemed to be worked of magic themselves, held aloft despite obvious damage and age. It was as if the whole of hell was unleashed in one great host, an army greater than any that had walked the world before. Greater still were they than any part of their whole, as armies of the dead do not kill. Rather, they _recruit_.

The Lich was a master of dark arts from eons long gone, his own body a testament to his lasting strength. He had conjured the dead of every war, the magics of the dark lord able to react with the fervor of their actions in life. A resolute and focused warrior in life was all the more dangerous in death, fueled by foul and ancient spells of compulsion and control. All of the mighty force was focused on following the dark necromancer in his purpose, and no sense of honor or morality would sway them from their silent march. On they stepped, one foot blindly put before the next.

The warriors and their machines seemed to be only held together by the Lich's will, as all but a few were merely skeletons and armor. The machines had been rusted, battered, broken. Many of them were missing large sections, obviously the reason they had stopped functioning in the first place. But the Lich could raise even them to his cause. For it was his very will that allowed the Lich to live these past eons, and that willpower could sustain the masses now at his feet.

In truth, the host of soldiers was far below his feet, treading the ground as he surveyed them high above. Finn and company had searched the scene before them for a time as they approached, but only as they had come within a mile or so could the group discern the place of the Lich. It seems that even flying on his own power was now below him, as the Lich had enslaved some nightmare creature to bear him above the ground. It was some kind of winged serpent, all black and covered in spines. Its eyes were empty save for the witch-light that resembled the dark lord's, and in seeing them it occurred to Finn that maybe this creature was not merely a slave, but maybe closer to kin with the Lich. The likeness of their eyes made him cringe, realizing the foul creature was surely a lich in its own right, a faithful servant rewarded with eternal unlife instead of 'ordinary' zombification.

And now it was up to Finn to break the Lich's armies, and his will, and maybe, just maybe, defeat him once and for all. Looking at the work before him, Finn sucked in the now foul smelling air and formulated an idea. It wasn't a plan, it was a goal. Destroy the Lich, destroy his hordes. Holding his sword resolutely, Finn tapped Jake's shoulder and motioned to the flaming princess that floated at his side. They came in close, and he began to relay his plan to them. "Jake, Azar, can you hold off the soldiers? If you can keep them busy long enough, I might have a chance to imprison the Lich." They nodded, until Jake came up with a question.

"But Finn, what about the Lich's spells? Can't he get hold of your mind and make you all gloobidy gloop?" Finn hadn't considered this ever important fact. Last time he had the protection of Princess Bubblegum's earring, but this time he hadn't thought about it at all. However, the protective jewelry he had worn was broken last time, and he had fought through it, hadn't he? Pointing this out to Jake, Finn felt strong enough to challenge the Lich now. But Jake threw that confidence away in a moment. "Last time you had Bu—that magic sweatshirt, remember? That's what protected you, right? Plus, he's at full strength now!" Jake had almost mentioned the fact that Princess Bubblegum's sweatshirt, and more importantly her caring had protected him. Glad that he hadn't, but disappointed at the truth of the matter, Finn looked over at Azar, and asked if she had any such protective jewelry he could borrow.

"Not really…but I could take on the Lich. I've got my jewel which should protect me, and my firepower should be more than enough to destroy him!" She was confident. Too confident. "But Azar, we've got to trap him, not kill him. Killing him isn't enough. Trust me, I've killed him twice." Though she didn't seem convinced, the girl conceded the point. Often if he spoke seriously like this she would, trusting his experience. She had been on adventures with him for a while now, but the boy adventurer had been doing it all of his life, quite literally. Nodding, Finn assured his friends he would resist the Lich, because the world needed him to. In the past Finn was known for succeeding where others failed if only for his willpower, and if it came to a battle of wills, only Finn would have a chance of being strong enough.

Setting his teeth, Finn called forward to his best friend. "Jake, slingshot mode! Target the Lich!" Reacting to the request, Jake stretched the large form of a 'Y' on his back, and made the namesake of the maneuver. Finn leaned back into the sling, judging the aim at the moving, flying Lich. Sensing the right moment, he screamed to Jake, "NOW!" Shooting high above the battlefield, Finn could see the masses marching below him, sloshing through the mixed and muddied stnow. No time to think on them, he angled his eyes to the dread creature he was sailing headfirst into. The wind whipped at his clothing, and he had to blink tears out of his eyes as the air bit at them. Arching towards the beast, Finn was now within a few meters of the black thing. Raising his sword high above his head, the adventurer prepared to skewer the Lich's pet.

It was a one in a million shot by Jake, as Finn struck it dead on. Sword meeting scale, ordinarily the blade would have been turned away. But such was the magic of a demon blade that is bypassed the defenses of the beast and sunk deep just above the collarbone. An inhuman and terrifying scream rang out above the battle, the lich-serpent crying in pain at the wound. Foul black ichor spilled forth from the wound, and as the creature began to spiral towards the ground Finn gripped its spines. Not having thought this plan through particularly thoroughly, Finn was suddenly regretting his action. He had impaled the Lich's mount, but had failed to realize he would have to find a way down afterwards.

Careening towards the ground at a frightening speed, Finn had an idea. An awful, crude idea, but one that would probably save his life. Pulling his sword free from the beast, the young adventurer clambered down from its neck onto its body. With one swing he removed one of its massive leathery wings, and grabbed it as the air tore the massive limb away from the creature, losing his sword in the process. He had traded his weapon for a makeshift and somewhat disgusting parachute, but it was a life saving measure. The sanguine blade spiraled away, landing somewhere among the horde below. Suspended in the air, he saw the struggling creature and its master plummet. They landed amidst their horde, the soldiers scattering as the dark beast crashed in their midst.

Meanwhile, Finn looked to his friends. Jake had grown to a massive size, standing tall above all but the largest of the war machines. Currently he was grappling with a legged machine, holding back a dark blade wreathed in lightning. In addition to holding back the walker, he was stepping on soldiers left and right without even trying. Leave it to Jake to turn clumsiness into a positive action. And then there was the princess of flame.

She was really enjoying herself. Usually, her destructive nature meant she had to always hold back. If she let herself go for even a moment, someone could get hurt, someone could die. Constant control made her safe, but it was a difficulty Finn had long acknowledged. Secretly he was honored by the measures she took, as he knew they were all to keep him safe . But now, now she could cut loose. Now she could show her true power, and show the world who she really was meant to be. With a maniacal smile he saw so rarely, Finn could see Azar destroying a multitude of soldiers at once. She had swelled over fully thrice her usual size, shooting flames from both hands in all directions. Confronted by a wheeled machine boasting a sizable cannon, she turned and focused her intense flames into a thin blade. In a single strike she split it in two, molten metal seeping from the edges of the cut. With a laugh, she turned and struck down more soldiers, as they tried to get close enough to fight but were burned by her natural heat amplified a thousand fold.

Feeling himself blushing looking at her, Finn shook his mind free. Now was not the time to admire her. Getting close to the ground, Finn surveyed his landing spot. Amid the chaos of the Lich's landing, his soldiers had scattered, attempting to drive off the intruders. Seeing a glint of red, Finn bent his captive wing to land next to the shattered beast and his father's blade. Throwing the evil appendage aside as he landed, Finn stepped forward with purpose and retrieved his sword. The Lich had landed some ways away from his pet, but the fell beast was not yet bested.

It did not struggle to its feet. It simply stood, as though it had not suffered an injury nor lost a limb. Beginning to posture itself for a fight, the creature stood between Finn and the dark lord. Indeed, this thing was loyal, that was certain. The witch-light in its eyes had not waned, and now they burned with hate. Finn raised his blade, eyes searching his opponent for some kind of weak spot. It took only a moment and an adventurer's intuition to find it. Upon the saddle it wore, there was a single black pearl the size of his fist, affixed right above where Finn assumed the creature's heart once beat. Although the hero was not totally aware of how the Lich King retained his connection to the world of the living, he clearly understood the method by which weaker liches were chained to the material. A vessel contained the soul of the departed, preventing it from leaving the world. That pearl had to be the vessel.

The two combatants adjusted their posture as the din of fighting rang in the background. With a roar, the beast leaped forward. Finn jumped at the last second and planted his foot on the wound he had caused at the beast's clavicle. Using it as a step, he made to leap behind it, and heard the groan of pain as the beast buckled under his foot. Tumbling down the fell serpent's back, Finn slashed out at the thing's spines, taking a handful off with every cut. He even managed to slice at the harness on its back, leaving the saddle to dangle awkwardly off of the now asymmetrical side of the beast. Slipping onto the ground, Finn rolled onto one knee.

Standing swiftly and turning to face his opponent, Finn was smashed hard across the chest by the dark creature's tail. Landing hard, all of his breath escaped the boy's lungs, and he struggled to regain a holding. Now the fell beast was almost upon him, its teeth mere inches from his face. In a roll to the side, the creature dug its face into the dirt, biting at naught but rock. With a sudden sense of foresight, Finn swung with all his might as the creature's saddle. It was cut free at the neck, and again sickly black liquid spilled out at the cut.

Now the saddle fell to the ground. But the beast was more intelligent than it looked. Even with multiple wounds, it did not retreat once it realized Finn knew its weakness. Thrashing in pain, and vainly trying to stop the boy, it swiped its claws back and forth wildly. Catching Finn on the shoulder, it ripped his cloak free and dragged a claw across the skin there. It was a superficial cut, but when the cut was caused by a natural dagger longer than one's hand, a superficial cut is one that doesn't remove an arm. Blood spilled out onto the ground to mix with the snow and the mud, and Finn grit his teeth hard trying to ignore the pain. In a single slash, he brought the pommel of his sword down on the black pearl, sending a crack through its dark surface.

At once the beast froze. A harsh white mist flew from the orb, the soul of the beast escaping to the netherworld. With a final scream, the beast fell limp at the hero's feet. Standing at last, he wiped the black ichor from the beast off of his face. Walking to the creature's claw, he rescued part of his cloak. Ripping off a chunk of the material, he pulled a small vial from his backpack. Emptying the liquid onto the piece of cloak, he wrapped it around his wound, tying it tight to stop the bleeding. Being an adventurer had taught Finn many things, chief among them the ability to treat wounds of all shapes and sizes.

Turning now, Finn saw a dark figure standing a short ways away. A tattered cloak enveloped him, and a horned crown sat atop his head, witch-lights dancing in his eyes. How long had he stood there, watching the hero work? What thoughts danced in his head? It would not take long for Finn to find out, as the Lich decided to send his thoughts straight to Finn.

"_**Be gone, Finn.**_"


	5. A Failing

Like a sledgehammer the Lich's mental message smacked Finn square between the eyes. The sheer mental force was enough to make the boy dizzy and see stars flashing before his eyes. Stumbling backwards, he had only a moment to raise his sword to block a bolt of fire. After a barrage of sickly green fire, the Lich grunted and finally relented from his assault. Finn watched in horror as the undead king raised his arms high above his head, murmuring evil words and conjuring something terrible. Lighting struck down from the heavens, unnatural green akin to his fires, wrapping around the Lich's arms and settling in his hands. At once a great axe formed from the conjured lightning, appearing ancient and gilt in tarnished gold. Letting his hands fall at his side no encumbered, the Lich started to stride toward the hero with grim purpose.

But Finn didn't wait for the impending attack; instead he brought his own energy to bear against his adversary. Roaring with rage and confidence, the boy launched himself at the creature, sword swinging at the rotting corpse's face. Easily the creature blocked it with his own armament, and again Finn heard the dread voice rise in his head. "_**You're weak, boy. Give yourself to me, I will make you strong.**_" It hurt, it stung, it burned him all over and made him want to vomit. Gritting his teeth and pushing the pain away, Finn focused on what mattered. He had to kill the Lich, he just had to make it count this time. He couldn't be swayed, he couldn't fail his friends, or the world. He had to finish this, kill the Lich.

NO! Not kill him, seal him away! At once Finn was reminded of his bold and dangerous plan, his risky plot, and it was made painfully clear to him that confronting the Lich up-close wasn't the best way to enact his plan. He heard what resembled a splutter, a strange guttural sound let loose from the Lich's lips. _Oh no_, thought Finn. _He can read my mind, he knows!_ In a clatter, the Lich swung his mighty axe hard and it rang loudly against the demon blade. Flying backwards from the blow, Finn landed hard on his back, feeling the familiar pain of a cracked rib. With a sharp breath, Finn rolled aside as the Lich's blade sought him on the ground. Over and over the Lich swung with reckless abandon, not halting for even a moment. Finn was quick, but he didn't know how long he could keep this speed up.

It almost seemed like the Lich was…desperate! With this sudden realization, Finn knew his plan had merit. If even the Lich in all of his eldritch power felt threatened, then there was hope for this crazy scheme to work. Now, if only he could get himself out of this stupid situation. Rolling and dodging just ahead of the Lich's axe, occasionally bringing his sword to bear, Finn was having difficulties holding his own against this paragon of evil. Attempting to disengage himself from the fight, Finn scrambled left and right amid the trampled and uneven ground. In his effort to escape, Finn noticed something peculiar. While the rest of the army seemed to be fending off Jake and the fire princess, those around the Lich were standing stock still, holding their weapons inwards, but not attacking. _Like a barrier, they're here to keep me in. _Of course, Finn couldn't be sure, but if that was their purpose, they were doing it well. He couldn't even fight the mere grunts without opening himself to retribution from the Lich.

And now Finn was in trouble and he knew it. He was getting tired; no, drained. Tired. How long had it been since a single adversary had made the hero exhausted, even question the limits of his energy? Even if this feeling was magic, it was beginning to have an effect on the young boy, and Finn found it more and more difficult to avoid the Lich's blows. Left, then right, then right again. The blade was closer each time, each time his guard nearly broken. It was nearly impossible to keep up, and dread welled up inside the hero. And then he broke.

With a mighty blow that could shatter bones, the Lich struck Finn's demon blade upwards and knocked it high into the air, and it careened off into the middle of the battle some distance away. Finn didn't need to see it fly long and far to know he'd never reach it in time to save himself. Moving in, the Lich raised his axe and…smiled. Or at least, it was the closest to smiling the Lich could accomplish with so little flesh clinging to his face. He was relishing this moment of victory, if only for a moment. And then he let his axe fall.

Finn's life flashed before his eyes. His childhood, his life with Jake, the Treehouse, BMO, his friends, his—wait! His visions of the past were only just beginning when Finn's attention was dragged from his pre-mortem reflection. With a screech no banshee could imitate, Finn heard something fast approaching as the axe loomed nearer. That axe would not find purchase in his chest this day, as his demon blade intercepted its arc before his eyes. But it was not alone in protecting him.

Burning brighter than he had ever seen her, the princess of fire held the damnable demon sword and drove back the Lich with a single powerful blow. Her royal jewels protected her from his dreaded mind control, but Finn doubted she even needed them to be safe from him at this point. The shocked boy had never seen such fury in all of his adventures across Ooo, even from this woman he thought he knew. Strike after strike she rained down on the Lich in her fury, and though his guard did not falter for even a moment, he continued to be driven back by the sheer strength of the blows. Again Finn was thankful his sword was tougher than steel, as Azar would have surely melted it or snapped it in her fury by now were it only made of steel.

But she wasn't the only backup that came to the adventurer's aid. Jake was soon following the flaming woman, struggling to help Finn to his feet. He took care to avoid hurting Finn, but with a cracked rib and multiple cuts and bruises, it was difficult to even touch him. "Are you OK buddy?" There was concern on his best friend's face, but the adventurer wasn't sure if it was about his current condition or Flame Princess's. But he didn't have the time to waste wondering about his friend's thoughts. He had to get ready to seal the Lich, and make good on his insane plan. As he rifled through his pack to find the Enchiridion, he heard a harsh screech from where he knew the Lich was fighting. Looking up in fear for Azar's safety, Finn found himself looking at something he didn't quite expect.

It seemed that the Flame Princess wasn't the only royalty willing to take on the Lich in this hour of desperate need. Marceline had now joined the fray, swinging her axe to meet the Lich's in epic combat. Baring her fangs and hissing fiercely at the Lich, Finn saw the warrior who was generally hidden in his usually casual friend. Side by side the two royals set their blades to work against the shared foe, trying desperately to hold back the evil tide as Finn flipped through the pages of his ancient book. Still the archaic king held back their blows, somehow able to keep up with every strike despite his age. It appeared he was unbeatable, even when assailed by powerful warriors.

Above the din, there was a sudden echoing yell, "Get down!" Hearing this, everyone in the party dropped to the dirt. Except for the Lich, who did naught but stand alone above them. Something much louder than thunder threatened to deafen the heroes as a gust of wind rocketed past Finn and Jake. A huge explosion shot the Lich backwards, smoke and fire rippling out from where he was struck. An awed expression graced every face present, as they turned as one to look at the place from whence the shot came. Standing high above the surrounding hoard of undead, there was a four-legged tank with a massive smoking cannon mounted high on its back. Scarred and pitted, the armor had at one point been painted pink, but scratches and divots made the color seem faded. A single hatch opened up top and Marceline cracked a wry, unsurprised smile.

"I thought you might need some assistance." The curt voice of Princess Bubblegum boomed over the battlefield, obviously enhanced over some kind of loudspeaker. She wore a helmet that resembled a cupcake, and a uniform that she obviously only wore for fun as the Candy Kingdom had no army. She gasped, and the company followed her gaze to see the Lich beginning to stand again. Calling down into the cabin of her tank to unseen crewmembers, another shot tore outwards towards the Lich, hitting him just as he stood. A cheer rose up among the allies, but Bonnibelle shouted quickly and seriously. "Finish his body while he's weak Finn, mortal weapons don't stop him for long!"

As if to illustrate the point, the Lich stood from the rubble. Hefting his axe high, he screamed something in a tongue no mortal could know. As one, the hoard moved as one to fight the allied heroes, and all hell broke loose. Marceline was the first to react, as her immortal ears knew the language and she anticipated their move. Striking the nearest mob with a wide arcing swing, she set about keeping the undead army off of Finn as he ran towards the Lich. Princess Bubblegum let loose with her mighty war machine, trampling unfortunates and utterly annihilating any that attracted her attention. Jake ran beside Finn, and they took off at a flat run. Now the plan had changed, as they could probably destroy his weakened body and then trap his soul. At least, that was the hope. The flame princess had already made it to the Lich, and she was still fighting him with vigor and spite.

But even she wasn't invulnerable against him. In a moment where she relented, he conjured water from nothing and launched it onto her. In a scream that sounded more like a splutter, she fell to the ground at his feet. Finn yelled, and despite the pain he felt all over, he sped up. Hearing him, the princess took his sword in hand and flung it. "Finn…" Catching it as he ran, Finn struck at the hateful creature in anger. The Lich anticipated this move and deftly blocked it. In one move he disarmed Finn with a quick horizontal slice, and proceeded to kick him back onto his buns. He dropped his axe to the ground and reached to grasp the demon blade. Finn gasped.

The last time the Lich had gripped Finn's weapon it had been Billy's gauntlet the first time they had met in battle. No matter how long ago that incident had been, he could still remember that awful moment when that weapon of renown crumbled to dust in the Lich's hand. In a heartbeat he shattered that legendary weapon, and that was when he was just beginning to regain his power. Now that he was back to his full power…he surely would be able to destroy even the demon sword of Joshua.

And yet, he didn't. He looked almost perplexed as he held the crimson blade in his desiccated hand. For a moment Finn was reminded of his adopted father and the sheer awesome that he embodied in his lifetime. It was a rare reminder that his father had a power few had ever attained, a hero to aspire to replicate. That his sword was invulnerable to the Lich's ordinary power put Finn at awe, even if he was in a perilous situation. But the pride was not long staying, as the Lich was indeed powerful in his own right. Even if he couldn't shatter the dreaded blade, he still had enough power to break it.

Finn watched in horror as the Lich snapped the blade in two. A sickly scream echoed out across the plains, and the blade lost all color. With a triumphant smile, the Lich dropped the pieces to the ground, picking up his axe once more.


	6. A Weight to Carry

Doom is something Finn has been familiar with many times in his relatively short life. It has come for him on the best of days, and on the worst of days. Rain or shine, fate never seems to care when it hands a person a near-death experience. No matter what the circumstances, fate can come at any moment in any place. Being an adventurer and a hero makes death seem as a friend, familiar and often present no matter how safe one seems. And occasionally, you actually meet Death and might even find that he's not so scary. Occasionally though, even for a towering hero or seasoned veteran, there rises such a doom, such a fate so grim and horrible that fear lunges for your heart and you can do nothing but let it. In those moments it is the quick or the dead, and sometimes only the dead.

Being a person that actively seeks out adventure, danger, and fights to help others, such a reality of life is just something to accept. Finn had made peace with his fate long ago, acknowledging there was something out there that would take his life, accepting that perhaps there was a beast fated to destroy him, or a battle he was meant to die in. He didn't deny it; he strode calmly through life, living in the now and enjoying every single instance of life, sound in body and mind. If he ever had doubts, he wouldn't admit them, not even to himself. He was strong, but he was weak, he was wise and he was foolish, and overall he was Finn. He had accepted himself and the world he lived in, treating every instance as his next big story. But that didn't mean he would accept death and lay down for it. If there was a fated ending, it might be scary, but he would fight it. For life.

Now was one of those horrendous, soul eating moments between life and death. Finn could see his death but moments away. He could feel the moment coming, his skills and endurance stretched to their maximum potential. He didn't want to admit it, but Finn could tell this could be one of the defining moments of his life. Or death. The Lich, his most detested foe, was bearing down on him with grim purpose, a mighty ax of fell origins in his hands. Wreathed in ancient and evil power, the ax would surely be more than enough to end even the stoutest of mankind. Indeed, it would be a rather spectacular way to go, if painful and awful all at once.

But an adventuring hero with a heart of gold will never give up no matter what the odds. Not even in his moment of defeat, he will never let go of hope, that all important trait. Finn almost universally was known for his tenacity, stubbornness, and strength of will. What other kind of person would fight on even with broken limbs? Who would circumvent their own fear to save a friend in need? Who would challenge any enemy large and powerful despite his mortal status? No, Finn was no mere hero, and on more occasions than most could count, he had proved it. Today was not Finn the Adventurers' last day; not while he drew breath would he give up or give in.

Mere moments from his impending end, Finn knew the time to act was now or never. Putting his plan into action, he quickly reached for the Enchiridion, the hero's handbook. Opening the well-worn and faded cover, Finn flipped to the page he had marked earlier, praying beyond hope he would have time to stave off the Lich and entrap him. Looking down at the words on the flimsy, weathered paper, Finn began to read.

Finn the hero has never really been Finn the sorcerer, or Finn the wizard, or even Finn the cheap magician outside of the occasional encounter with toads. Although he had need of magic on rare occasions, it was largely outside the realm of his abilities, flame shield being the only notable exception. He has always relied on his physical prowess more than anything else. However, having dabbled here and there with various artifacts and weapons in his time, the adventuring human had learned the basics of spell work, and found that contrary to popular belief, being exacting in reciting the spell wasn't always necessary. Often, the magic had a way of fixing itself or being close enough to have the correct effect. Finn could only hope that this would be the case with this ancient work, having no time to test it.

The words were inhuman, impossible to understand, and difficult to speak. Even as he spoke them, Finn found the words morphing in the air and becoming things he could not utter. It was as if the words themselves were fighting against being spoken, rebelling against the voice that made them, and forming themselves on the air. Finn's skin crawled at the words, and it physically hurt to say them. A painful ache arched up his back, in what he recognized as magic unbound and unfiltered. Only once before had he felt just a power; back then he had sworn he wished never to feel it again. But to be a hero was to do what is necessary, despite discomfort. So he continued to speak, unholy words ripping at the fabric of being. The whole world seemed to shudder at the noise and the ghastly servants of the Lich spasmed or froze as the words slipped out. The whole world melted away, and as Finn read the words he had no time or inclination to look at his friends, or even his enemies. He was betting on this one thing, this thing that he was letting out with his voice, this powerful force he wasn't sure he could adequately control.

But it seemed to be working, as the Lich appeared to be hurt too, shying away from the cursed words. Although up until this point he had seemed unbeatable, the universe and all of its power seemed to have another story in mind for the Lich. Finn continued his droning and painful monologue, feeling this had to be the only way to stop the mad being's cycle of destruction. The wind had picked up, and threatened to carry Finn away over the snow banks, as it howled and shrieked. Lightning crossed the sky, and Finn was now acutely aware that he was messing with very serious and malevolent powers. The very air seemed to be mimicking the words the hero spoke, an eerie echo that resounded in the surrounding hills and valleys. Could this be worse than the Lich itself? If it was, it was too late. As the last words of the incantation left his mouth, there was a great rumble and the very ground split open at his feet.

As the earth ripped itself apart with a violent shudder, an immense object materialized in the space that was left. A great door rose from the shadows, dark swirls and mist accompanying its arrival, and an unearthly sense of dread filled the hero and his companions. Ancient and fell runes adorned the dread portal, and all assembled grew silent and still as it stood monolithic over them. Around the entire device there were rusted and pitted chains, and they radiated unnatural power while emanating a sickly green hue. The chains started moving of their own volition, unwrapping themselves from the door, and after a great rattling sound they fell to the ground. With what appeared to be a great effort, the door creaked open, fully tall enough to fit a giant easily in the frame. Friends and enemies gasped as what they could discern inside. It was as though all of eternity lay inside the door, and nothing at all. It bent the mind, and hurt the soul, but to tear one's eyes away from the paradox would be a greater pain.

While the company stood frozen around the door, there was a sound, growing as though distant and gaining ground. All at once, there was a _pull _from the door, and everyone for miles could feel it subtly clinging to their very spirits. But it had a clear target, as indicated by the original incantation. Suddenly, there came a great invisible force that seemed to be pulling the Lich inside. The Lich made flailing motions to grab at something, anything, but to no avail. Clawing the dirt and the trampled snow, the once powerful sorcerer had nothing in his power that could stop this incredible power. Truly, it was almost pitiful to see the sorcerer struggle with such obvious desperation. But all the same, that made the moment ever so worthwhile. It appeared that the day had been won, the Lich's forces collapsing as his focus moved to his own survival.

But such a clean victory was not to be, as it happens. Only a bittersweet victory would be attained today. The Lich, in his fury and hatred, stopped his pathetic attempts to prevent his own imprisonment. It would seem that a horrible idea had dawned on him. As a final act of defiance, he did something truly foul and cruel beyond reason. Instead of lashing out at the door, he focused the last of his malevolent power into one last summoning. His power was just strong enough to conjure a long chain of hellfire, and in his act of defiance he lassoed the princess of fire with his fell device. With a screech, he pulled her into that dread place with him, and the assembled had only the time to release small noises of dissent. Only Finn was silent, for though his mouth formed words, his voice couldn't bear to utter them.

After what seemed like an eternity, but could have been only a moment, the doors slammed shut, and the chains resumed their position around the portal. Then the door sat immobile and silent, quiet and simple now. It was a long empty moment before anyone spoke. But it was Finn that broke the silence.

"Not on my watch."


End file.
